The Drifters
by FuManchu4465
Summary: I stared into the muzzle of the pistol terrified. "I'm gonna blow your brains all over the wall you stupid blue-jay," said the man holding the gun. He cocked the hammer of the gun back.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, sorry it took me so long to get this written and posted. There's just been a lot of things going on at the moment. So read it and tell me what you think in the comments area. Thanks.**

Chapter 1

June 6th, 1869

The sun burned my neck as our horses clopped through the dusty dirt. Sweat trailed down my forehead and onto my beak even though I had on a tan wide brimmed hat. My brown leather vest felt heavy on my shoulders as did the Colt pistol in my holster. The worn down red shirt I was wearing seemed to also be getting heavier. The black pants I was wearing seemed to soak up the sun's heat and concentrate it on my legs.

To the right of me a short raccoon was riding a black mare. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tan pants, and boots. His wide brimmed hat was hanging on the back of his neck by a string. The raccoon's name was Rigby. He was my best friend.

To the left of me was a scrawny man. He was thin with long arms that hung down past his holsters when he stood straight up. The man wore a tan shirt and blue pants. His gun belts holding two pistols barely stayed around his waist. When he joined the group no one knew his name so we all called him Weasel.

There were three more men in the group. The leader of our gang, Gordon Griffin or just Gordy, was riding in front of me. He was a strong man who could get any girl and could frighten a grizzly. His pistol holster fit just right around his waist. Gordy's light blue button up shirt seemed to be soaked through with sweat and his yellowish pants seemed to be turning darker with sweat.

The other two men, Johnson and Barker, were colored men who had joined us after the war of the blue and the gray. They were good to have for any job. They always kept their mouths shut and never argued.

I looked around at everyone. Rigby looked like he was about to complain, Weasel had a tired look on his face, and the two colored men had blank faces. I couldn't see Gordy's face.

"Hey Gordy," Rigby said.

"What?" Gordy asked.

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost, just two more miles," Gordy said.

"Okay." Rigby fell silent again.

Nothing made a sound. Sweat ran down my forehead and onto my beak. One mile later, Rigby spoke up again.

"How 'bout now?"

"No," Gordy said sounding a little agitated.

"Alright," Rigby said.

Ten minutes later Rigby asked,

"What about now?"

"Rigby, what do you think?"

"Sorry."

Twenty minutes later we finally reached our destination. **Welcome to Ground Zero** the sign read. It was riddled with bullet holes. Our horses clopped into Ground Zero.

"Alright," Gordy said as we entered the main street. "I need to get some information. You guys do whatever you want, just stay out of trouble."

"You got it," I said.

Then I lead my stallion, Dusty, over to the bar. I tied him up to the horse post outside and walked in. It was dark inside even though it was daytime outside. Smoke was heavy in the air as men played cards, argued, and drank.

I walked over to the bar and sat down. A flat nosed bartender appeared in front of me a few seconds later.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Whiskey," I said.

"We're all out," he said.

"Then get me a coffee," I said.

"One coffee for the blue-jay," the bartender shouted.

Two minutes later a man came out of the kitchen with a hot mug.

"Thanks," I said.

He just nodded his head and left. I paid then got up with the coffee and walked out. I stood leaning against the bar wall sipping my coffee until Rigby came running up.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothin' much. You?"

"I' m fine. Just waiting for Gordy to tell us what our next operation is," I said.

Our group had a lot of code words for things. Operation was code for robbery. All of us also had a code name. Mine was Jay.

"So what do you want to do?" Rigby asked.

"Nothin'," I said.

I sipped my coffee some more. Suddenly Gordy came ridding up.

"I've got the info, come on," he said.

I guzzled the rest of my hot coffee and jumped onto Dusty's back. Rigby ran to get his mare.

Rigby and I followed Gordy to the main square of the town. Johnson, Barker, and Weasel were already there waiting for us. We tied up our horses and walked over to a porch outside an abandoned hotel.

"Alright," Gordy said when we got there. "Gather 'round." As we got closer Gordy pulled out a map. "At four o'clock a train leaves the station with eighty pounds of gold and roughly forty passengers. The train will go forty miles west, cross a bridge over a canyon, then turn east. It will go east until it arrives at its destination, a small town called Bellbuck. We are going to wait ten minutes after it leaves before following it. We'll catch up to it and sneak on as silently as possible. Mordecai," he looked up at me. "You're gonna be scout."

"Yes sir," I said.

Being the scout meant I had to be the first person on. I had to make sure it was safe to board the cart I was on.

"Anyway," Gordy said. "We're only taking one percent of the gold. Got that?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good," Gordy said, scratching his stubby haired chin. "This has got to be quick, in and out," he snapped his fingers. "Like that. When we're done we'll ride five miles north to a town called Dodge City. So everyone ready."

Everyone nodded again.

"Okay, Johnson, what time is it?" Gordy asked.

"Three-fifty, sir," Johnson said, his voice rumbling like thunder.

"Let's get going then," Gordy said stuffing the map in his pocket.

As we walked toward our horses, Gordy remembered something.

"Oh yeah. And guys, remember, you don't kill anyone unless they're about to kill you."

We all understood. I mounted my horses, as did the others, and rode to the station. Gordy made us wait outside. Ten minutes later, the train left. Ten minutes after that, I kicked Dusty's side and started riding. The rest of the guys followed. We rode hard to catch up to the train.

"Come on Dusty," I said to my horse as we pulled up alongside the caboose. "Just a little faster," I whispered in his ear.

Dusty galloped as fast as he could, passing the caboose and onto the next traincar.

"Good," I muttered.

Steadily, I got my feet up to my settle. Then, slowly, I stood up. I noticed how fast the ground was going by under my horse.

'Crap,' I thought.

"Well, it's now or never," I muttered.

Then, I jumped.

**Did you like the cliff hanger? I'll try to get the second chapter of this story up before I go back to working on the Vietnam story. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's taking me so long to upload new chapters for these stories. Here's the second chapter for the Drifters. By the way I changed the name of Mordecai's horse, Dusty, to Tex. **

Chapter 2

Still June 6th, 1869

It was like everything slowed way down. I sailed through the air seemingly weightless. It took forever. When I was almost there the train started to suddenly speed up, ramming the front wall of a train car into my left shoulder.

I fell hard, banging my head hard. I got up, wobbling a little. Suddenly, my feet slipped and I collapsed. I would have fallen and been crushed by the wheels if my hand hadn't caught the side railing.

I hung there for a second, lost in thought. Then, shaking my head, I struggled to get back on the platform. I dusted myself off. Then, quietly, I leaned up against the wall. I cracked open the door. There was only one guard at the other end of the car, his back facing me.

I held up one finger to show Rigby there was only one. He nodded then rode up and jumped onto the side of the car. Quietly, I nudged open the door and snuck inside. I drew my pistol and flipped it so that I could hit him with the butt of it.

Examining him I noticed that he was big. Not the fat type but the strong type. If I got into a fist fight with him I would probably loose.

Quietly I stepped closer and closer. I was almost to him when a board creaked under my weight.

'Crap,' I thought.

The guard whirled around. He a Winchester in his hands and there was a scar that ran across his forhead. I didn't give him the time to react.

I lunged and tackled him to the ground. In one swift movement I pinned him beneath my knees. Then I hit him twice with the butt of my pistol. I thought he was unconscious so I started to stand up.

Then, without warning, the guard grabbed my arm and whipped me against some seats. It hurt but I couldn't let myself focus on the pain. As I was pushing myself off the train floor I saw the man going for the Winchester. Quickly I kicked him in the stomach and snatched up the rifle. Then I whirled around and pointed the barrel of the gun at him.

"Stay down," I growled between gritted teeth.

"Alright, alright. Just don't do somethin' you might regret," the man said sitting on his haunches.

"Good," I said, walking toward him. "Stay right there and you won't-,"

I didn't get a chance to finish because he grabbed the barrel of the rifle and wrenched it out of my hands. Then he used it as a club and swung it at my head. I ducked just in time. I stood back up and rammed him against some chairs, trying to force the Winchester out of his grasp.

We were both fighting to get the upper hand when I finally forced the rifle out of his hands. It sailed down the car and landed right near the door. As soon as the Winchester was gone I jumped away from him and went for my gun holster. When I didn't feel the handhold of my pistol I looked down and saw my empty holster. Then I remembered that my gun was somewhere on the floor.

"Crap," I muttered.

I looked up to see a fist flying toward my face. I didn't feel the pain at first. I just felt the force of the punch lifting me off my feet. I sailed through the air and landed hard on the ground. Then I felt the pain.

Through my blurred vision I saw the guard drawing his revolver. Then he pointed it at me. I starred at the muzzle terrified.

"I'm gonna plow your brains all over the wall you stupid blue-jay," the man said holding the gun.

He cocked the hammer back of the gun back. Then, something amazing happened. The guard was standing under a window in the ceiling. Before he was able to shoot me the window was pushed open and Rigby tumbled in onto the guards' head.

We were all surprised and at first no moved. I regained my senses first and got up. Then I tackled the guard to the ground, ramming him in the stomach with my head. As soon as he was down Rigby started scratching his face. The guard pushed him out of the way. I took that moment to punch him in the face as hard as I could. He finally stopped fighting. I had knocked him out.

Rigby and I sat back for a minute, catching our breath. Then it was time to keep moving. I grabbed my pistol on my way out of the cart. I signaled for Gordy and the others that it was okay to get on this cart. A few minutes later everyone was in the cart.

"Alright, let's get down to business," Gordy said. "Weasel, you check the carts from here to the caboose. Johnson, you and Barker stay here and keep this place secure. Jay, you and Coon are with me. We're getting the gold."

Rigby and I nodded and followed Gordy into the next cart. Nothing but empty seats was in there. We went through four more carts like that until we reached the on with the gold in it. There was a guard stationed at the door but Gordy knocked him out and went inside slowly. After looking around, he motioned for us to follow. Rigby and I walked into the cart and immediately spotted the chest full of gold in the middle of the room.

Quickly, all three of us went over to the chest and started looting it. Rigby loaded the gold into the bags while Gordy and I stood watch. Soon Rigby had the gold in the bags and we were ready to go. Then the guard that Gordy had knocked out came to.

"Uh, what?" he muttered as he looked around. His eyes found us before we had a chance to hide. "Crap, guards! Robbers!" He was screaming at the top of his lungs.

Gordy rushed forward and punched him before the other guards had a chance to hear the cry for help, but it was too late. The door on the opposite side of the cart burst open and guys with revolvers and Winchesters ran in firing their weapons. Gordy bolted and Rigby and I followed. Through the carts we ran, dodging bullets and firing back. I was able to shoot one man in the leg and another in the shoulder. Rigby ran out of bullets before he hit any of the guards.

"Come on guys," I heard Weasel yelling and I saw that Barker and Johnson had already jumped off the train onto their horses.

"GO," Gordy yelled and Weasel jumped off the train onto his horse.

When Gordy got to the doorway he turned and fired off two more bullets before jumping onto his horse. Then Rigby jumped off the train. I was almost to the doorway when something tripped me and I fell. I turned to see the guard I had been fighting before. Blood from his broken nose seeped down his face. He looked really pissed.

"You're not gettin' off this train alive you vermin," he yelled angrily.

"Yes I am," I yelled back before kicking him in the face with the heel of my boot.

His grip on my leg loosened and I got back up. Bullets were whizzing past me as I ran for the door, the bag of gold still over my shoulder. When I got to the doorway I saw my horse, Tex, running alongside the train waiting for me. I did not think, I just jumped.

Amazingly I landed almost perfectly on the saddle. I just needed to pull myself on the rest of the way and got control of Tex's reins. Then we turned around and galloped after the rest of the group. When I was with them our horses, with Gordy leading, galloped the rest of the day. By sunset we had reach our destination: Bellbuck.

Gordy got three rooms, two people per room, in a local motel and we got our stuff into our rooms. Rigby and I got a room together that had two beds. When we had gotten all our stuff in our room and I had hidden the sack of gold, Rigby and I headed for the bar. Gordy and Barker joined us on the way there. Soon we were all in the bar having a beer and sharing some jokes.

I the back was a stage where some locals were showing off some of their "talents". Some waitresses were serving drinks. This place seemed a little bit formal for a bar, but I did not really care. Randomly I muttered,

"This place looks so boring."

"You think this place is boring?" Gordy asked sarcastically. "Boring!? Well Mr. Jay, take a look behind you and I guarantee you that this place won't be so boring."

"What?" I asked as I turned around.

What I saw made my jaw drop.

**Thanks for reading. Tell me what you think in a review. I'll try to get the next chapter written and uploaded as soon as possible.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Since so many people like this story I decided to write and post the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

Chapter 3

Still June 6th, 1869

She was beautiful. No, that is an understatement. She was gorgeous. Even that is an understatement. I don't know any words to describe her. Or what I felt for her. She was a robin; red feathered and had two spikes on the top of her head like mine. Unlike my spikes her first spike had a little curve in it.

I just sat there with my jaw hanging in the middle of a loud bar with my buddies laughing behind me. Eventually I was able to mutter a wow, making Gordy and the others laugh even harder. Between his laughs, Gordy started saying,

"I'm glad you," laughs, "glad you think that" another laugh, "because she is our waiter."

"Uh?" was all I could say.

"Dude, you should see your face right now," Rigby almost shouted between laughs. "It's, it's just so freakin' hilarious!"

Eventually the laughing became chuckles which subsided to giggles that soon stopped. After everyone was done laughing, I asked,

"How do ya know she's our waiter?"

"Because boyo, I asked specifically for her. I knew you might like her," Gordy said with a huge grin on his face.

"Now hold on a sec," I started to say, "I don't-"

I was interrupted by a sweet female voice.

"Excuse me," the voice said, "may I take your order?"

I froze. I could tell, before I even turned around, that it was the beautiful robin I had been gawking at earlier.

"Uh yes, let's see," Gordy said, "Barker here will have a beer, Coon a cup of coffee, sugar, and I'll have a medium bottle of whiskey." When Gordy finished he smiled up at the waitress.

"Okay," she said, writing the stuff down on a slip of paper, "and you sir?" She had the question pointed at me. I still hadn't turned around so I did know slowly.  
Again I was awestruck. I tried to politely shut my jaw, though I don't think I succeeded.

"Sir?"

I tried to speak but I couldn't get the words out. Eventually, after sputtering enough to make a fool of myself I was able to say,

"T-the same as G-gordy."

She wrote that down and left. I turned around expecting to see the guys about to laugh heads off again. I was right. The forces of the laughs almost sent me flying off my seat.

"By god boyo," Gordy gasped between laughs, "by the way you just acted one would figure you don't know how to talk to girls. Or even talk for that matter!"

The laughter soon subsided. I looked around at my buddies, feeling angry with myself. Once Gordy saw how I felt a look of concern came over his face.

"Look boyo, we're only laughen' at ya because we think you can take it. We think you're tough enough to take it. Honestly, you of all people in this bar should be able to laugh it off right now and get ready for another try as soon as she comes back." Gordy's speech did make me feel a lot better and I had to smile. "Ya feelin' better?" Gordy asked.

"Yeah, a little," I said with a small grin on my face.

"Good because here she comes."

I looked up to see the robin approaching with the drinks in her hands. From this distance I could see the name sewed into her shirt read Margaret.

'Margaret, what a beautiful name,' I thought.

Margaret arrived at our table and handed out the drinks. When I got mine I said thanks.

"You're welcome," she said then turned to leave.

I took a sip of my drink. It was too bitter for my taste so I turned to spit out the whiskey. That's when I saw the man grabbing Margaret's arm and pulling her toward his seat roughly. Instinctively I stood up. The man, he was about my size, stood up and the two started arguing. Suddenly without warning, the man raised one of his thick arms and slapped Margaret across the face.

I was walking toward him at a fast pace with fists clenched. The man had knocked Margaret to the floor and had a fist risen. I grabbed his wrist before he could do anything and yanked it back, forcing him to stumble into the table.

"What the hell," he yelled in a slurred heavy southern accent.

"Get away from her you drunken bastard," I said in a gruff, low, cruel sounding voice.

"Go to hell," he said trying to balance on his feet.

He lunged at me then, swinging his fists. I ducted under his punches and came up swinging. I punched him across the face and he stumbled away. I advanced on him and held him in place as I punched him twice in the stomach, then once more to the face. The last punch sent him sprawling. I walked up to him on the floor and knelt down on one knee next to him. Grabbing his shirt collar, I raised his head up so that we were face to face.

"If you ever touch Margaret or any girl like that again," I growled, "I'll put ya in the grave."

Then I dropped him back onto the floor and rose. The bar was quiet as everyone stared at me. I walked over to Margaret, who was still lying on the floor shocked by the whole ordeal, and held out my hand. She stared at it for a second, then, reluctantly, she grabbed my hand and I helped her onto her feet.

She stared into my eyes for a second then muttered,

"Thank you." Tears were starting to come of her eyes and flow down her cheeks.

"It's alright," I whispered, "it's alright."

Then from behind I heard the drunken man standing up.

"You bastard, you'll pay for that," his voice gurgled.

I was about to tell him that he could just keep on dreamin' when I heard a pistol being cocked. I spun around to see his gun pointed at me and Margaret. He had on eye closed as he tried to find his target.

"Step aside cowboy," he said, his speech was slurred.

Instead of doing what he said I stepped fully in front of Margaret so as not to let the man hurt her.

"Suit yourself," he said and was about to pull the trigger when Gordy appeared right behind him and punched in the back of the head.

"Thanks," I said to my friend.

"No problem dude," he said as if nothing had happened.

I turned to Margaret.

"Have you got anywhere to stay, ma'am?" I asked politely.

"Yes, thank you. He's been harassing me for months now. Never could get him off my back," Margaret said, looking down at the man on the ground.

"Hey, not a problem. I scraped meaner off my boots," I said grinning.

"Well, I just can't thank you enough," she said great fully. Her eyes were starting to dry.

"Saying so is enough," I said.

I was about to say something else when Gordy called me over to our seats at the bar. I said goodbye to her and went over.

"Yeah," I said when I got there.

"Sit down, I got something to ask ya," Gordy said. I sat. "So Jay, do ya still think this place is boring?"

I thought a minute before answering.

"No," I said, "no I don't think this place is boring. In fact this might be the most interesting place I've ever been to in my life."

**Did you like it? Did you not like it? Tell me in a review what you think. See ya soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I must apologize for being a bit late with this chapter. Also I have realized that Winchesters hadn't been invented since the 1870's so I also apologize for that. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy. **

Chapter 4

June 7th, 1869

I could feel the heat emanating from the fire as the house burned. Tears streaked down my cheek though I didn't know why. For some reason I was ten years old again. The ground under my bare feet was dirt and near me were corn stalks. In front of me was a burning house and near the house was a burning barn. There were men in front of the house.

I was in a little ditch hiding behind some shrubbery. My shirt was tattered and my blue overalls had a rip in the left pant leg at the knee. Next to me was my fourteen year old brother, Dan. His right cheek was bleeding and he had a pistol in one hand. He had on a brown wide brimmed hat and pair of brown pants. His eyes darted around widely as a scared look filled them.

A woman's scream was heard from inside the burning house. I whipped my head towards the house. I knew that scream; it was my mother's scream.

"No," I yelled as I tried to rush forward.

"Don't," Dan said, catching me and pulling me back. "Don't try to save Mom or Pa, they'd kill us too." He said this with the deepest regret in his voice.

"Who," I asked, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Then I heard the crack of a gunshot and the dirt in front of Dan and I flew up. The men were shooting at us.

"Come on," Dan said. "Let's get to Rigby's house. Maybe they can give us shelter."

I nodded and then stood up. Both of us ran from the burning buildings into the dark night. Then I heard a spine chilling voice behind us shout into the night,

"You can't hide from me! I will hunt every last person in this family down and kill them! Ya hear me?! I will kill you!"

Suddenly another gunshot was heard and I felt something sharp hit my back, painfully go through my body, and exit out of my body right under my chest.

I woke up with a start in my motel room bed. I looked around dazed and a bit confused. Sand colored walls, a brown drawer next to my bed, hard mattress with a brick like pillow and a stiff blanket. At first I had no idea where I was. I sat up and swung my boots onto the floor. I saw that before I had gotten in bead I must have taken off my shirt, vest, and hat because I still had my pants, holster and pistol, and boots on.

Suddenly I remembered yesterday, the train, the girl, and the jerk at the bar. Remembering it all so suddenly gave me a bit of a headache. I stood up and clumsily stumbled into the bathroom were I washed my face off with some water and looked in the mirror. I stared at the face I saw in the mirror; clad with blue feathers and a beak. I shook my head a couple of times to get all the water off my face and to clear my mind.

Then I remembered my dream and my hand instinctively felt the scar that bullet had left. In the mirror my reflection copied my movements. I shivered at the memory.

My brother had carried me to Rigby's house and when he was sure that I would be alright, he left. He had left a note that said he would hunt down and kill the men that murdered our parents. Dan wanted me to stay safe so he didn't bring me. I didn't see him again until five years later at my aunt's funeral. I was only able to get a glance at him before he left. I didn't even get to talk to him. I have not seen him since.

"What do I do now?" I asked the bird in the mirror.

Out of the blue my stomach growled.

'Well I guess I better get some food,' I thought as I left the bathroom.

I got on my red shirt when I started to smell an odor. I sniffed the air then I sniffed my shirt. Almost immediately I made a scrunched up face. The odor was originating from the shirt.

"Gotta get some new clothes too," I muttered as I fastened my gun belt around my waste. I had tucked in half of my shirt so the other half covered up my gun.

I noticed that Rigby was still asleep and decided not to wake him. I grabbed my hat and put it on while I walked out the door. Down in the lobby I said a brief hello to the guy behind the desk and walked out into the humid air. Almost immediately I started sweating.

Across from the motel was a white church and next to it on the right were a couple of stores. One of them was selling tobacco and other sorts of random things. The store next to it, named Harvy's Guns, sold guns, gun belts, and ammunition. The last store on the row was called Duck's Clothes.

'Good,' I thought as I walked over to the last store.

I walked inside and saw the counter at the back of a square room. There were a couple of chairs in the middle of the room with a couple of clothes racks place randomly throughout the store. Behind the desk a white duck was talking with a tall blue jay whose back was to me.

The blue jay was wearing a long brown overcoat which didn't allow me to see much of what he was wearing but I was able to see he had on black boots. One of his hands was bandaged with cloth that must have been white at one time, but was now more of a light tan color. Smoke from a cigarette he was smoking drifted into the air above him. The collar of his overcoat was turned up so I couldn't see the back of his head. Some of the feathers in the back of his head had grown long and barely touched the top of his overcoat collar.

The duck spotted me and whispered something to the blue jay. The blue bird turned his head slightly to get a good look at me, then quickly paid the duck, turned, and left with his head down. I watched him leave curiously, then decided it was nothing and went up to the counter.

"How may I help you?" the duck asked. He had on a black cap, a black vest over a white shirt, and black pants.

"Um, yes, I am looking for a new shirt, preferably a blue shirt. Oh yeah, and a good hat. This one has a couple of holes in it," I said, pointing to the tan hat on my head.

"Alright sir, I think I might know just what you need."

With that the duck left the counter and walked through his store. As he started searching through some shirts he said,

"The hats are near the front of the store if ya wanna look at 'em."

I nodded and walked to the hat rack in the front of the store. I looked through them until I found one that I liked. It had a brownish sandy color with a bill that circled all the way around. It was floppy and loose, not stiff like the one I had at the moment.

"I found a good shirt for ya." I heard the duck say.

"Good," I replied as I grabbed the hat off the rack and took it with me to the counter.

"Here," the duck said handing me a dark blue button up shirt.

"Thanks," I said. I tried it on in a room in the back of the store and it fit pretty well.

I came out with the blue shirt still on and paid for it and the hat. On the way out I tossed the red shirt and the riddled hat. Then I walked toward the bar I had been to the night before. It was located near the end of the row of shops and houses. I had learned last night during a conversation with a drunken man that at night the place was a bar and in the morning it was a diner. As I was walking in I took the time to look up at the name of the place. Josey's Diner was what it read.

Inside the diner there were shadows that seemed to envelope the back half of the place. The sunshine from the windows was the only source of light in the place, making it a little hard to see.

Upon walking in, I noticed that the same blue jay I saw in the clothes store was sitting in a booth, sipping some coffee from a tin mug. He was looking out the window. I noticed a scar that ran horizontally down his face over his left eye. He had thin black hair over his beak and a small, upside down triangular goatee above his chin. I decided to take a seat at a stool near the entrance, so he wouldn't see me. I had the strangest feeling that I knew the man. He looked to be a few years older than me.

Margaret appeared in front of me out of nowhere in her uniform. She actually startled me a bit.

"May I take your order sir?"

I stared at her for a second, remembering last night, then said smoothly,

"You can call me Mordecai. And I'll have a coffee with sugar and some grits. Thanks."

She nodded and was about to leave when she whispered,

"Thanks again, for last night. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything," I said kindly. "It was the right thing for me to do."

She left then. I took another peek at the mysterious blue jay again who was still sipping his coffee. When Margaret came back with the coffee I thanked her then asked,

"Who is that blue jay over there?"

"No one really knows his name, he was just a drifter who wandered into town one day a couple months ago and decided not to leave. He got a couple of people worrying the first week, but he never did anything against the law so the people stopped. He's actually starting a ranch just outside of town. Raising cattle, I think. He doesn't talk much. In fact, the longest I've ever hear him talk is when he orders his breakfast, which is usually black coffee with no sugar and some grits. Anyway, why'd you ask?"

"Just…curious," I answered, which was true.

"Okay. Your coffee will be out in a minute." With that she left. My eyes trailed after her for a second, then I shifted my gaze back to the blue bird sitting at the booth. His shirt under his coat was tan and musty looking and he wore brown overalls.

I studied him for a minute and was about to sip my coffee when the doors to the diner burst open and for men walked in. I was able to see that three of them were law men, the badges on the black coat were very noticeable and I could tell that they were proud of the job.

They all had on a black vest with black pants and a white shirt. One man had a mustache that ran from under his nose to connect with an inch long beard that jutted out from his chin. Another man had horrible looking sideburns and some randomly placed facial hair under his nose and lower lip. The last man was completely clean shaven and looked to be about two or three years older than the other two law men. I guessed that he was probably the sheriff's second in command or something like that.

The fourth man remained a mystery to me. He had on a gray bowl had and a matching gray suit. He had on a white button up shirt under the jacket and a golden chain for a watch that might have been in his jacket. The man's entire upper lip was covered by a thick brown mustache that curled up at the ends.

They were obviously looking for someone and I prayed that it wasn't me. They scanned the bar until the one with the sideburns looked in my direction and whispered something to the others. Then they started walking my way.

'Crap,' I thought.

They were walking right towards me.

**Glad you enjoyed it and if you didn't, too bad. I'll try to write the next chapter soon and until then, bye. Leave a review in the comments section below.**


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